


no rule required

by brujsedbones



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Begging, Blow Jobs, Crying, Dirty Talk, Dreams, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Play, Rimming, Rough Sex, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 05:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16402295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brujsedbones/pseuds/brujsedbones
Summary: This TY character has become something of an urban legend around campus, especially among his friend group. He has been with everyone, it seems. Everyone but Doyoung.





	no rule required

**Author's Note:**

> happy halloween?

“Here, take this pill. It will help you sleep,” Johnny says, brandishing a blue capsule. Doyoung pushes his hand away.

“Jesus grandpa, don’t you know better than to offer a college student a pill in an empty dining hall?”

Johnny’s not really that old, just a year older than Doyoung. He just likes to poke fun at him and call him elderly names because Johnny has already graduated college, working some menial office job. He’s still a law school student, hence the reason he’s on a college campus with Doyoung, a senior.

“Just take it,” Johnny insists. “Everyone who has taken it was visited by TY.”

Doyoung flashes him an annoyed look, gesturing to his notes on realism versus neorealism spread out all over two tables. “I’m busy. Do I look like I need to have a steamy rendezvous with an unfamiliar creature?”

This TY character has become something of an urban legend around campus, especially among his friend group. According to everyone, he comes around while one is sleeping, entering their dreams. The dreamer proceeds to have sex with TY in a wet dream of sorts, then the being vanishes into thin air. Several people report it as the best orgasm they’ve ever had.

TY has hit everyone in Doyoung’s friend group; Johnny, Ten, Jungwoo and Jaehyun. He’s been with Kun, Doyoung’s acquaintance from his music theory elective. Even Mark Lee, the dorky, genius freshman in Doyoung’s calculus class, has had TY’s claws sunken into him.

TY has been with everyone, it seems. Everyone but Doyoung.

It’s likely because Doyoung rarely sleeps, and if he does, it’s for short periods of time. Sociology and law are very difficult degrees by themselves, and double majoring in them both just multiplies Doyoung’s workload. He doesn’t have time to sleep.

He doesn’t really mind not sleeping, because this is something he is passionate about and he’s sure all of his hard work will pay off in the end. He doesn’t mind not being seduced by some off brand Freddy Krueger either. If he doesn’t have time for sleep, he definitely doesn’t have time for sex.

Johnny gives Doyoung a sympathetic look. “That’s exactly what it looks like.”

Now that Doyoung thinks about it, he hasn’t gotten laid in over a year. And the inner control freak inside of him is driven absolutely mad by the fact that he’s missing out on something that seems to be such a common occurrence.

He catches Johnny’s wrist before the elder can tuck the pill into an inside pocket of his blazer. “Wait,” Doyoung says, cheeks beginning to color, “Leave it. The pill. For me.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, and a stupid grin appears on his face. He places the capsule in the crease of Doyoung’s textbook. He claps a hand on his shoulder. “Atta boy!”

“I need to get through exams first. Then—Then I will find time. For him,” Doyoung rationalizes, more for himself than Johnny. His sentences have turned choppy, a rarity for someone as eloquent as Doyoung typically is, and it shows Johnny just how much this bothers him.

Johnny squeezes his shoulder lightly. “Just remember, whenever you want to summon him, you have to think about him before you sleep. That’s the only way he’ll come.”

“I thought you said all I had to do was take the pill and he’ll come,” Doyoung says.

“It’s 2018, not 2080. We don’t have that kind of technology yet. It’s just a sleeping pill,” Johnny laughs at him.

“How long will I be out?” Doyoung picks up the medicine, examining it closely.

“Depends on how tired you are before you take it. I advise doing some exercise right before you take it to exhaust yourself, then you’ll sleep for eleven or twelve hours,” Johnny supplies. “I have a meeting, I have to go.”

“Have fun being an adult!” Doyoung calls after him as he leaves. He puts the pill into the inside pocket of his pullover and goes back to studying.

In the next coming weeks, the pill falls to the back of Doyoung’s mind as he studies for and takes all of his exams. He’s even more exhausted than usual, as most students are during exam time. It’s cold outside, early December,  and Doyoung feels weak all the way down to his bones when he collapses onto his dorm bed after finishing his final scheduled exam.

There’s something firm pressed up against his nipple from underneath the fabric. He pulls it out, and lo and behold, there is the blue pill Johnny had given him all those weeks ago.

It’s the perfect time to take it; it is the first day of winter break; Sicheng, Doyoung’s roommate, finished his exams two days prior and is likely already back in China by now; Doyoung is flat out _exhausted,_ absolutely drained by the semester.

He doesn’t even bother with the exercise Johnny had suggested he do—he doesn’t need it, and smelling bad in front of someone who wants to have sex with him is not ideal.

It’s just past noon, so Doyoung draws the curtains and gets in the bed. He thinks of the letters, the name TY before he shuts his eyes.

A figure that Doyoung assumes is TY is sitting cross legged on Doyoung’s bed as soon as he feels himself become immersed in the dream.

They are still a few meters apart so Doyoung cannot see his face that well, but his slouched posture gives Doyoung a familiar feeling. College students slouch all the time.

He blinks. “That was fast. I was expecting a little bit of a wait before you came to me.”  
  
TY, voice smooth like velvet, says, “I came to you as soon as I saw you were falling asleep.”  
  
“Is it like an Uber?” Doyoung asks, curiously unfiltered. “Do you just get pinged whenever someone new begins to drift off?”  
  
TY shows Doyoung a smile full of pretty teeth. “Yes, I suppose it is like that.” 

“There are so many people falling asleep right now, and you chose to come to me. Why is that?” Doyoung asks.

“You are strange, human. So full of inquiries,” TY comments instead of answering the question. He says the second part more to himself, quieter, more amused.  
  
TY uncrosses his legs, preparing to answer the question. Doyoung becomes privy to a not unpleasant flash of penis, and his previous question flies out of the window. “Why are you already undressed?”  
  
“I was with Yuta,” TY explains, and the face flashes in Doyoung’s mind. Nakamoto Yuta, from his English language class. “I left him in a hurry so I could be here to greet you.

“Why?” TY grins, sexy and dangerous. “Would you prefer I have my clothes on so you can take them off of me yourself?”

Doyoung only latches onto one thing while TY is speaking. “You left him mid-dream?” Doyoung questions, eyebrows rising. “How rude.”  
  
TY tilts his head to the side. “What kind of silly mortal admonishes an incubus?” 

“An incubus,” Doyoung breathes. He finally can put a name to the species. It makes sense, given his whole ‘have-sex-to-drain-life-force’ act, but Doyoung had truly thought them nothing more than myths created by masochistic perverts.

“Yes. And to answer your question, yes I left him mid-dream,” TY sighs. “You are too rare, too enticing for me to let you get away from me.”  
  
TY stands, walking over to the desk chair Doyoung is sitting in. He straddles his lap carefully, and Doyoung can see how handsome he really is. His face is all sharp lines, strong brow and angular jaw. He has a defined cupid’s bow that forces his lips into a permanent pout. His eyes are wide and dark, framed by long lashes. Doyoung is unsure if the dark eye makeup is apart of TY’s usual get up or if it was applied for this occasion, but it suits him greatly. TY is beautiful, and Doyoung can see why so many people would enjoy getting into bed with him.  
  
He trails a manicured finger over the outline of Doyoung’s collarbone. “I am usually not this fixated on a meal, but you are special, Doyoung.”  
  
A shiver passes through Doyoung’s spine at being called a _meal,_ and he’s almost positive that Taeyong can feel it. “Special? Why is that?”  
  
“I am normally only permitted to go to the mortals who think of me. You have not, not before this afternoon, and yet I have seen you before. Sometimes, you reside in the dreams of others.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Do you not know that all of your friends want to fuck you?” TY asks, and Doyoung is thrown for a loop. That doesn’t make any sense. Friends and friends, and do not want to have sex with each other.  
  
“Especially that Jaehyun,” TY continues on, even though Doyoung’s world has flipped on its axis. “I go to him a lot, but more for you than for him.”  
  
That makes Doyoung’s thoughts freeze for a split second. “Isn’t that kind of fucked up?”  
  
TY heaves an exasperated sigh. “What am I supposed to do when I want you, this overworked, handsome specimen, and you never sleep? I know Jaehyun will always think of you, so I go to him often. 

“It is not like he is unaware!” TY exclaims when Doyoung gives him a flat look. “We dream-fucked you together once.”

“You _what?_ ”

“He fell asleep masturbating while thinking about you,” TY says. “So you were in his thoughts when I arrived. We acted on it.”

“When was this?” Doyoung wonders aloud.

“About a week ago,” TY shrugs. “I technically could not access you because you did not yearn for me, so I doubt you have any memory of it.”

TY is right, Doyoung doesn’t have any such memory, but he _does_ have a memory of being in the library at 3 AM exactly one week ago, with absolutely no reason to explain why his dick is suddenly so hard. The history of consular institution is not that arousing.

Doyoung goes pink at the memory, now knowing the reason behind it. He latches onto something else TY said to change the subject. “You said all of my friends want to fuck me. Were they thinking about me the only time you went, or have you been with all of them more than once?”  
  
“You know, Doyoung,” TY starts, eyes twinkling, “Most of my meals do not talk this much. And they usually are much more excited to see me than you are.” 

There it is again, that _meal,_ that objectification that makes Doyoung’s blood run hot in his veins. That name calling might do something fix the lack of excitement that TY is complaining about.

Doyoung swallows roughly. “Answer the question.”

“I have been with all of your friends more than once,” TY confirms.  
  
Doyoung sighs, rubbing his temples. “I don’t know how to fuck an incubus,” he confesses.  
  
“The same way you fuck a fellow human,” TY tells him. “You do not have to worry about that anyway. You are here for my pleasure. Your own pleasure is secondary.”

“What if I don’t get hard?” Doyoung asks, the need to consider all possibilities ingrained into his DNA. Also, the thought of it is _embarrassing._  
  
TY laughs daintily. “You will. Do not worry about that. I know everything that you like, even if you do not know it yourself.”

That’s not terribly surprising, but it still makes Doyoung’s jaw drop open. The idea of someone knowing more about himself than he does makes him uneasy.

“Shall we begin?” TY asks.

Doyoung nods jerkily, and TY sinks down to his knees, looking at Doyoung from between his thighs. TY snaps his fingers, and Doyoung’s clothes disappear, leaving him as naked as the day he was born. He snaps again, next to Doyoung’s ear this time, then holds his finger over the human’s frame. The digit hovers above his skin and remains untouching him when TY slowly drags his finger down Doyoung’s body.  Like magic, Doyoung feels blood flow down to his crotch, and he has a solid erection in seconds.

Doyoung, bewildered and amazed, lets his gaze flicker between his TY and his dick. “How the fuck did you do that?”

“Incubus magic,” TY says, like it’s obvious. “I took all of the inappropriate thoughts in your head and redirected them down to where I wanted them.”

He speaks softly, distracted, and Doyoung is a little pleased to discover that TY has not removed his eyes from his dick since he became hard. The objectification is blatant, Doyoung’s pleasure from just being looked at thrumming beneath his skin like electricity. TY really wasn’t kidding when he said he knows what everyone likes.

“If my pleasure is secondary, then why are you doing what I like?” Doyoung blurts. TY’s eyes flash up to him, and the air leaves Doyoung’s lungs. The dark brown that was there before in completely gone, replaced by a striking amber color. Doyoung feels like he’s seeing TY as an incubus for the first time.

“If I do what you like, you are more potent to me and I can take less of your life force. It is better for the both of us. And,” TY adds with a smile, “I like to please.” 

“My _life force?!_ ” 

“I am incubus, Doyoung. What did you think I would be taking?” TY asks, looking disappointed in him.

“I don’t know!” Doyoung rasps out, throat suddenly dry. “I thought you’d just swallow my come and call it a day or something.”

TY laughs, _laughs,_ bright and unbothered. “I planned on doing that anyway, human.”

Doyoung opens his mouth and tries to make words happen, but he falls short. TY catches on. “Do you want me to stop?”

The _“no!”_ that rips itself from Doyoung’s throat startles TY. “No,” he repeats, quieter. He’s come this far. He has a hard dick and a beautiful, humanesque man between his legs, ready to make him feel good. He can’t stop now.

“Do what you want with me,” Doyoung whispers, and TY’s responding grin nearly splits his face.

“You really shouldn’t have said that, Doyoung. Get on the bed,” TY says gently. Doyoung stands up too quickly, and he knocks his dick into TY’s face. He just smiles, eyes flashing, and Doyoung is fucked. He’s so fucked.

TY maneuvers him until Doyoung is on his knees and elbows, ass in the air. His eyes widen when TY shifts his left knee into a way he thinks presents Doyoung in the prettiest way. “I like this?” he squeaks out when TY spreads his cheeks apart.

 “You love it,” TY corrects, breath hot against his hole. “In fact, the only thing you enjoy more than this is having people beg you for things.”

Doyoung can barely process the truth in the statement before TY presses a stupid kiss to the opening and says in the softest voice imaginable, “So please, Doyoung. Use me. Please use my mouth to make yourself feel good.”

Doyoung swallows. “TY—” 

“I want you to call me by my real name,” TY interrupts. “Call me Taeyong.”

“Okay, Taeyong,” Doyoung says, and he feels a suspicious heat cascade down his back from the unfamiliar syllables. “Open your mouth.”

Taeyong does, obedient and gorgeous. Doyoung’s hand shakes as he reaches back to grab a fistful of Taeyong’s silvery hair. He guides Taeyong’s lips back to his hole, pushing his hips back against the incubus’ face.

Doyoung’s never done this before, but it makes sense why he likes it. Taeyong is sloppy, tongue permanently hanging out of his mouth. He drools against the entrance, getting it nice and wet before making his tongue firm enough for Doyoung to push back on. And Doyoung does, pushing his ass back on Taeyong’s face in earnest. He keeps one hand steady in Taeyong’s hair, the other fisting the sheets on his bed.

Doyoung lets his ass linger on Taeyong’s face for a bit longer than normal, and Taeyong whimpers. He gasps for air when Doyoung lets him breathe again, and a cruel smile takes over Doyoung’s face. “Oh, you like that?”

He doesn’t give Taeyong time to answer, shoving his face between his cheeks again. Taeyong mewls, hands reaching underneath Doyoung to grab at his hips. The tugs them back, tugs so Doyoung is basically sitting on his face, leaving him no room to breathe.

This is so incredibly hot to Doyoung, so he pulls off and does it again and again. The feeling of Taeyong’s tongue in him is so good, but he finds himself getting more pleasure in the little gasping sounds the incubus is making in the half second that Doyoung allows him to breathe.

One of Taeyong’s naughty hands reaches forward to jerk him off, and it only takes a few seconds of that combined with his sinful tongue to make Doyoung teeter on the edge of an orgasm. Taeyong snatches his hand away before Doyoung can get there.

Taeyong, perhaps driven mad by the scent of arousal in the air or the pathetic whimpering sounds Doyoung is making, pushes Doyoung out of the way and begins to lick at the sheets desperately. He’s eating, Doyoung realizes all of a sudden, lapping ravenously at the drops of pre-come Doyoung has leaked into the sheets. It’s stupid for Doyoung to be disappointed, but he is. He hadn’t even really gotten his hands on Taeyong yet.

“Is this the part where you wake me up?” he asks. Taeyong stops his frantic licking to look at him curiously, and Doyoung observes that the brightness in his eyes has dimmed slightly.

“No, of course not. I have not wanted someone this much in eons. I do not wish to be finished with you quite yet,” Taeyong answers.

Doyoung gestures down to his flaccid dick. “How—?”

Taeyong snaps his fingers, and Doyoung’s dick shoots back up. He’s not even surprised this time.

“I would like it if you fucked me now,” Taeyong says, and Doyoung doesn’t even want to protest.

“You don’t have to prep me, my body does that on its o—”

“Shut up,” Doyoung says, pressing a hand over Taeyong’s mouth. He guides the incubus onto his back and spreads his legs. “I’m going to do it anyway.”

Taeyong seems at a loss for words. “Why? It is unnecessary.”

Doyoung shrugs. “Because I want to.”

He is being serious; it has been ages since he’s fingered someone, since he made someone come. He misses the feeling of accomplishment and pride watching someone shatter into pieces beneath him. Taeyong is an anomaly—he has a strange duality about him. His delicate features make him appear as fragile as a doll, but he also looks like he wants to be ravaged, choked and slapped and spit on. Doyoung would be damned if he didn’t give him at least some of that.  
  
He sucks on his own fingers before pushing two of them inside Taeyong as gently as he can manage. He may be an incubus, created for this type of thing and have thousands of years in practice, but Doyoung isn’t going to just fuck him like a rag doll. At least not yet.

Taeyong huffs an annoyed breath. “Can you get on with it?”

Doyoung’s plan of gentleness and mercy dissipates when he observes the displeased crease of Taeyong’s eyebrows. Swiftly, he inserts his other two fingers into Taeyong, and he is immensely proud when he chokes on a moan.

“So this is what you like,” Doyoung murmurs darkly, arm moving rapidly. “You like being treated like you’re worthless.”

Taeyong whimpers, hand coming up to clutch at Doyoung’s strong forearms. “I _am_ worthless. I am worthless, useless. Just a-- _fuck_ \--just a toy for you to play with.”

Doyoung’s dick is _s_ _o_ hard from the sounds Taeyong is making, and he just wants to be inside of him. He pulls his hand out, admiring how Taeyong’s hole clenches around empty air. “Hm. So you do have purpose.”

Doyoung is driven by nothing but raw, carnal desire when he enters Taeyong in one short thrust. Taeyong’s responding squeak makes it so much better, and Doyoung’s heart nearly gives out when Taeyong clenches his silky heat around Doyoung’s cock.

The noises Taeyong makes are so fucking pretty, stuttered and half baked and they’re making Doyoung insane. He grips Taeyong’s small hips to drive into him harder, the sound of skin meeting skin deafening in the otherwise silent room.

Doyoung had never been that fond of silence. “You’re so fucking tight,” he grunts out. Taeyong takes it upon himself to lock his ankles around Doyoung’s waist in response, forbidding him from going too far.

The mortal is having none of it. He places Taeyong’s legs on either of his own shoulders, bending Taeyong backward so his hole is angled upwards. He thrusts back in, unreasonably rough, and Taeyong mewls like a kitten, back arching off the bed.

“There,” Taeyong gasps, _sobs._ “Right there, Doyoung, please.”

Doyoung continues to piston his hips back into Taeyong, aiming for that spot. The incubus tries to throw his forearm over his eyes, but Doyoung catches it and pins it to the bed. Taeyong’s cheeks are pink. He’s...embarrassed?

“Please, Doyoung. Fuck me just like that, pleasepleaseplease _please,_ ” Taeyong babbles, mindless. “I need it.”

“Don’t tell me what you fucking need. I don’t care,” Doyoung snaps, and Taeyong shrinks back. “You told me to use you, so I will fuck you until you’re all. Used. Up,” he says, each word punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips.

“ _P_ _lease,_ ” Taeyong whines, voice watery and absolutely fucking pitiful, one of his hands clenched into a fist.

“No,” Doyoung says, and crystalline tears begin to fall from Taeyong’s eyes. Doyoung almost comes from the sight.

Almost, because he’s right on the edge, but he can’t get there. He isn’t sure why until he sees the small smirk on Taeyong’s lips. He watches the amber eyes flicker to his clenched fist, and he pieces it together. His hips stop moving.

“Unclench your fist right now. Let me come,” Doyoung demands.

“No,” Taeyong parrots his denial from earlier. Frustrated, Doyoung places a hand on Taeyong’s throat. He's not pressing, but the hand there is warning enough.

“I said,” Doyoung repeats, leaning closer, “Unclench your fist.”

Doyoung won't actually choke him, because something that susceptible to error needs prior discussion, but there is something incredibly fucking hot about giving Taeyong's throat a tiny squeeze, about hearing Taeyong's breath hitch that makes him want to hold Taeyong like this forever.

Taeyong, eyes very nearly rolling back into his head, unclenches his fist the tiniest bit. It’s only a fraction of a second of the orgasm that Doyoung feels, but it takes the breath out of his lungs. Taking advantage of his weakened state, Taeyong pushing Doyoung back, getting between his legs. Making sure to keep his fist closed, Taeyong leans down and takes the entirety of Doyoung’s length in his mouth in one go.

He doesn’t waste any time, swallowing around him immediately. Doyoung’s hips buck up into his mouth, but Taeyong presses them down, determined to milk Doyoung of all he was worth. He rubs insistently at the skin above Doyoung’s hip while he blows him, dick disappearing into his mouth and reappearing like magic.

Taeyong’s mouth is hot and wet, and Doyoung feels like he’s been on the edge of orgasm for an eternity. Taeyong is deliberate in his actions, making sure Doyoung is watching and making eye contact as he fucks his mouth and gags on Doyoung’s cock, leaving the mortal helpless to do anything but watch.  Taeyong makes sure Doyoung can see him cry and uses magic so he cannot look away or close his eyes. There’s fire in Doyoung’s veins, and he feels like he could burst at any second.

All of a sudden, Taeyong released his fist, and Doyoung comes so hard and so fast that he’s struggling to swallow it all. He keeps his head still, letting Doyoung rut his hips up into his mouth until he finishes emptying his stupidly large load. Once he stops moving, Taeyong hollows his cheeks and keeps sucking him dry.  It’s cruel, and Taeyong knows, but he’s been waiting on his and he will not let a drop go to waste.

Doyoung feels drained. His heart rate is slow, respiration labored. Everyone always talks about the feeling of the orgasm, how mind blowing the sex is. No one talks about feeling half dead afterward.  
  
“Did you fucking kill me?” he asks, shrill and panicking.  
  
Taeyong pouts, lips glistening from spit and come. “I am afraid I took a little more than usual. I was unable to stop myself. I am sorry, Doyoung,” he apologizes sincerely.  
  
“Did you kill me?” Doyoung repeats, and the way Taeyong smiles is sad.  
  
“I surely hope not. In the seven hundred years I have been this way, I have yet to kill a human.”

Doyoung sits in silence, trying to get his bearings back. When he sits up, Taeyong is clean and put together, sitting in Doyoung’s desk chair in a black turtleneck and a green velvet suit. His eyes are no longer amber, back to the deep, dark brown, and Doyoung assumes that means his hunger has been satiated.

Taeyong smiles gently at him. “Wake,” he says, then vanishes.

Doyoung does, rising up from his bed with urgency, gasping and panting. He picks up his phone and looks at the time. 2:07 AM.

Doyoung was in that dream for _fourteen_ hours?

He falls back on his bed, becoming aware of the sweat cooling on his chest. He squints up and--oh god.

He came on the fucking ceiling.

That’s going to be difficult to explain to Sicheng.

  


 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I, a full time college student, planned and wrote this in less than 24 hours simply because I missed writing about taeyong
> 
> if you got here and didn't quit on me, thank you for supporting my unscholarly actions and making it worth it <3
> 
> thank you for reading!
> 
> 181024  
> -M


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